Scrapbook
by Snoaz
Summary: She was his everything, even if he didn't always show. Drabbles, sketches and ideas that focus on Oldrivalshipping.
1. Chapter 1: Knightmare

**A/N:**

**I have a note book that is filled with all kinds of small pieces of writing, usually just ideas or figments of my imagination. I sometimes work them out further, but I don't always feel like thinking of a plot or a well-running dialogue; sometimes, you just want to write. I didn't know what to do with all those pieces of work, but then I decided to create a new file just for those stories. The emphasis often lies on description (because I use it as a means to improve myself) and are different than my other stories - but then again, you might appreciate it. And at least I have a destination for the contents of my note book, haha.**

**That's all I have to say now... oh, and it probably will be mainly Oldrival what I write, but there might be some other things too. Just what I feel like writing. And I think the updates will be more frequent than my usual stories, since I don't let this proof-read, and it is usually just written without furher thoughts. That was the author's note for this time ;D**

**Disclaimer: These are purey fan-made pieces of work, I own nothing of Pokémon.**

(K)nightmare

She was having a nightmare.

Again.

Creatures from the dark, hidden in shadows, advanced on her and closed her in; without being able to see (because it was so _dark_) she knew she was trapped. And that there was no way out.

Feet that didn't make a sound shuffled; teeth that remained silent clattered. A sudden dispersion of darkness showed an assembly of ice sculptures, as far as the eye could see. They gleamed and glistened, alight despite the absence of light itself.

Their presence was threatening. She didn't know why, because they were beautiful and delicately built; more translucent than the finest glass, more breakable than the frailest china. But she was choked with fear, eyes wide open and limbs petrified.

Her legs didn't move. Here arms didn't listen to her orders.

Her mind was shut out from her body, and no solution dawned; it was just her and the creatures of ice.

Again.

A wordless scream escaped her mouth as the sculptures moved towards her (she didn't know how - they were lifeless, they were cold - ) but it didn't help. Her shout for help seemed to dissolve in the frosty air, falling down on the ice tiles as crispy snow or hail. Cold engulfed her as winter filled the room. She knew she would be frozen before the sculptures would reach her; dead before help could even have come.

An end without compassion, an end without dignity. Still.

But then a sudden warmth pervaded her; hands closed around her waist, a body pulled her close. As comfort and love and blind relief flooded her, the ice sculptures retreated. She could see them melting, disappearing in a stream of ice-cold, ice-clear water; before the darkness lifted and all was light again.

All was well, too.

*

Green held her in his arms, almost like a mother would do with her child. But no words of comfort, spoken in soothing tones, escaped his mouth; and no tender, stroking gestures sprang from his arms. He just held her, still and silent. Because beneath the tiredness, the thick blanket of sleep that threatened to cover him, he knew that was what she liked best.

_Someone to be there for her. Someone to provide solace and consolation. Someone who knew her better than herself._

Later, she would thank him; later, she would say it meant the world for her, his silence, his arms, his not-judging. He knew she would. Because that's how it always went. He was her knight getting her out of her nightmares, she said.

_Knightmare. _

-

-

(And he didn't even mind the spelling mistake.)


	2. Chapter 2: Small Wonders

Small wonders

Small beams of moon light fell upon the transparent wings, in the trees and along the water; it was reflected, absorbed, transformed into small grains of white. The translucent wings shined in the dark; they were like soft-glowing lamps, spreading hope and light. The attached bodies almost couldn't be discerned.

"It's so beautiful…" Blue sighed. Her eyes were glued to the sight in front of her: the velvet-blue sky, the ink-black silhouettes of the branched trees, the reflection of the moon in the water. And above all: the spots of light amidst this nocturnal scenery, tranquil and pure.

Suddenly the Butterfree took off. A trail of silvery powder encircled them as they fluttered through the air, over the lake and the far trees.

Blue held her eyes on them, even when they were reduced to nothing more than small dots, almost indiscernible against the dark background. A small breeze rippled the water's surface, making the reed rustle a little. But it was not unpleasant; the air was warm, almost sultry. It was one of those perfect summer evenings in August, wherein you could sit outside all night, dressed lightly, staring at the sky; and not getting cold.

She felt warm and treasured. Next to her sat Green, silent and in thought. His gaze was, just like hers, staring into the distance, on the still trees and the dissolved Butterfree.

Another breeze shattered the moon's reflection, and also seemed to bring the two persons sitting on the water's edge into motion. Green lifted his arm and put it around Blue's shoulders. She nuzzled closer, feeling his warmth and absorbing his familiar scent. Their eyes were still on the velvet night sky, falling into a deeper darkness still.

It was like a thick blanket spread itself out over the trees, the sky, the grass; only the moon remained untouched, glowing brighter than ever. A small trickle of light was reflected in the water. It was like a lifeline on a coal-black hand.

And as they sat there, at ease and in love - happy and still - time didn't matter; because they knew they'd be together forever.

And that promise kept them alight even in the darkest of nights.


	3. Chapter 3: Image of Perfection

**A/N:**

**An ode to Green? Kind of. Because he's just that kind of guy.**

Image of perfection

He always appeared to her in her dreams. He was handsome and tall and unnervingly right - as in real life. But contrary to the real Green, her dream-version smiled at her; reached out for her; laughed,; even touched her swiftly now and then.

(She was asleep; but the brush of skins ser her body on fire.)

Still, mostly he looked at her. Just looking, with those intense eyes of him; emerald-coloured, almost as shining and invaluable as gems.

More, perhaps.

(Occasionally, his looking would turn into staring. It unnerved her and sent a chill down her spine - unpleasant and pleasant at the same time.. And she couldn't help but wonder if he knew what she was thinking.)

She couldn't tear her gaze away, and lost herself into those deep pools of green, with no emotion or thoughts or dreams appearing on the surface; all feeling stuffed behind his iron defences, blocked with sarcasm and wit and pure knowledge.

So smart, so beautiful. So perfect.

(So unreachable, too.)

His skin was fair and unflawed; tricks of the light made it seem like milk, or a more tasteful substance - and it made her want to set her teeth in it.

His hair was dark-brown; a loose spiky strand of it cast a shadow on his face, and it seemed to glisten - she knew it would be silky-feeling and it made her want to touch it.

(She almost reached our her arm.)

Those thoughts he gave her at night, she didn't forgive him. She always ended up awaking flushed or aggravated, full of want; and her heart was torn between the two emotions.

But the thing that she blamed him most for

(more than the perfect skin, the mesmerizing eyes, the unstoppable intellect)

was the fact that her dream-image would dissolve into thin air once the heavy shadows of the night retreated, showing the truth in a patch of incoming sun light.

She wished he would smile at her like that one day; reach out for her; even touch her swiftly now and then.

(And it would be better than in her dreams, she knew. Because he was the kind of guy that only could be grasped when full awake, using all your senses - and even then, a lot of the perfection would go to waste.

Almost like the gems buried deep under the ground: beauty appearing when coming above the surface - but so much leaving behind in the process. It was the price and image of perfection.)


	4. Chapter 4: Seasons

**A/N:**

**_zetroC Girl™_, thanks a lot for the review! I'm glad that the stories appealed to you that much. I do hope though that the mistakes weren't that grave - if you have an account, please notify me of them by means of a PM. _Ibuberu_, laziness has never been a virtue ;D Just kidding. I've sent you a PM, but thanks again for the kind words! You're the best, you know that? Haha. Okay, on with the drabbles & sketches!  
**

Seasons

His favourite season was autumn.

He liked how the increasing winds would sweep the sand from the streets and would blow the warm, oppressive summer air away (making place for a delightful coolness - a new period of time.) Clouds would gather high in the sky; showers of rain would threaten to fall down; the lands would get soaked.

And he didn't mind. The rhythmic splashing of rain drops against the windows-panes was consoling in a way. He worked better when it rained; it kept him sharp. It also made him feel protected.

Saved by the walls, only a few centimetre away from a soaked world. He was nothing but a small dot in a gigantic universe, he realised that. Smaller than the drop gliding before his eyes over the window, on the other side of the glass; leaving a small trickle of rain behind before disappearing in the sheets of water below.

_One of many. _

*

Her favourite season was spring.

She liked how fresh winds full of scent would sweep the snow from the streets and would blow the cold, biting winter air away (making place for a flutter of happiness - a new start). The sun would stand high in the sky; rays of warmth would pervade the earth; the lands would get covered with green loaf.

And she loved it. The slow swaying of the flowers was comforting in a way. She felt better when she was surrounded by scents and colours; it gave her new vigour. It also made her feel secured.

Saved by the sun's bright rays, miles away from endless sheets of ice. She was everything but a small dot in this gigantic universe, she knew. Bigger than the dancing flowers and the soaring bees, all overflowing and melting into an in indiscernible crucible of colours and sounds.

_Unique_.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spring and autumn couldn't get along, everyone said. Blue and Green were happy to prove them wrong.


	5. Chapter 5: Happiness

Happiness

Happiness could be found in many things.

Every time Blue received a new set of earrings or a silver necklace - shining, expensive, beautiful - she felt her heart rise. She couldn't walk past a window sill filled with precious ornaments - her eyes were drawn towards it like it once had when a handsome boy came into her vision.

_(Before Green had called all her attention.)_

Never came the time she said no to a piece of chocolate; a cupcake; a sweet wrapped in bright packing-paper. She felt a leap of joy in her midriff when the sugary topping brushed her taste buds and the dark cacao melted on her tongue. She couldn't think of something more tasteful or pleasurable and didn't bother to search for it.

_(Before Green had shown her different ways.)_

Every single time she had fooled someone - told a lie; pretended to be someone else; covered up a story - she received a thrill. It was a secret kind of glee, a feeling that made her proud of her lying and acting abilities. She couldn't suppress the urge to display her many-sided tricks and never thought of showing the back of her tongue.

(_Before Green had looked her in the eye.)_

Yes, she knew happiness could be found in many things -

and she would tell everyone she'd meet that for her (_material girl, femme fatale_) it consisted of diamonds and pearls; of champagne and caviar; of money and success.

It were all lies.

She couldn't face the humiliation, succumb to the _weakness _of being soft. But towards herself, she admitted that only one thing truly made her happy.

_The way Green looked at her. The way Green held her. The way Green kissed her._

It gave her a sense of well-being and contentment, a warm feeling she couldn't quite place - till she saw it reflected in his own eyes. And she knew it was love.

Love, the feeling she never thought she'd experience; the thing she never thought she'd see returned; the fire she never thought would fill her heart. It created an overwhelming hurricane of feelings inside her that made her stop in her tracks, almost scared by the intensity of it, the world upside down -

No diamonds or pearls; no champagne or caviar; no money or success.

Everything was but a weak reflection compared to the brush of his lips against her skin, the stroking of her hair, his hand holding hers… and one day, she finally told him so.

_(Her pulse raced. Her body fluttered with nervousness.)_

But he smiled - a warm, real, actual smile. She knew right there and then that it had been the right thing to do - and felt her entire being fill with happiness and love, mixed into an ever-circling spiral of fireworks and warmth; overwhelming her, consuming her, enlightening her.


	6. Chapter 6: Rollercoaster

Rollercoaster

It was like a rock rolling down-hill. He had no control whatsoever about his feelings, couldn't keep them in tome anymore; and the more he was aware of it, the harder it went.

It was like sand slipping through his fingers. He desperately tried to keep his posture and not to give in to the yawning abyss beneath his feet; but the harder he clenched his fists, the more he crumbled under the pressure, tumbling down in free fall.

It also was like a rollercoaster ride. He thought he knew the route, the starting and ending point - but on the way he lost himself in a blur of adrenaline and confusion, all sense of direction swept away by the wind.

Being in love wasn't something he was used to; it differed from all he was familiar with. (Logical, rational, _controllable _things).

He still hoped that at the end of the distance the girl in his dreams would be waiting for him; a gleam in her eyes and a loving smile on her face.

Because despite everything, he knew with an inexplicable certainty that the winding road in front of him would be so much less frightening with her by his side - guiding and sending him home with the soft touch of love.


	7. Chapter 7: Imperfect Perfection

Imperfect Perfection

He had always known things weren't going to be easy when Blue would become his girlfriend.

Once an hour she'd ask him if he thought she was beautiful, pointing out flaws (a birth-mark on her shoulder; too much fat for her liking) on an otherwise perfect creation. He merely sighed, waving her insecurities aside.

Once a day (more, often) she'd beg him for jewellery or other gifts, clinging on his arm and stimulating his guilt feeling. He refused without exception - but that didn't stop her from pressing and trying over and over again.

Once a week she'd accuse him of not being a good boyfriend, because of the lack of attention she received from him. Her words ricocheted against his armour of indifference and fell unanswered on the floor.

Once a month, he'd feel a bit sorry for his neglect and gave in to some of her requests. He told her that she was beautiful, and that he liked her not despite but because of her flaws. And as she smiled, he knew that the same was true for her: she stayed with him even with his many shortcomings.

Because she probably realised that beneath the indifference, the irritated gestures and the lack of shown affection he loved her like she loved him. And that was how the standard questions and answers, the call for attention and the ensuing rejection, were more of an ingrained role pattern than significant signs. For outsiders their relationship might look far from perfect - but Blue and Green knew the opposite to be true. It was perfect despite, with and _because_ of all its imperfections.


	8. Chapter 8: Beauty and Love I

**A/N:**

**This story and the one following have to be read together. The overall themes are alike (but not completely the same); but the last scene in both stories _is _the same. The only thing that differs is that this one has Blue's POV, and the last one Green's. **

**_Ibuberu_ is right btw, these stories _are _mainly about feelings. I've counted the dialogue in the uploaded stories, and it were only four words (spoken in _Small Wonders_.) So yes, definitely more feeling than action, haha. But I just love writing it. It's more difficult, but if you succeed in capturing emotions, fears, or something as strange as love - it gives you that much more satisfaction. :) Not to mention I absolutely love using metaphors or descriptive language. Yes, these stories just give me more opportunity to be free with my writing. Not that I don't love working on my regular stories (any Blue/Green interaction is pricesless imo!) but I feel like these stories are closer to me. But well, enough with the talk! Hope you enjoy it. Or not. But just let me know, haha.**

Beauty and Love I 

Blue could be called many things.

Most of all, though, she was a master of disguise - a natural in hiding feelings and showing the world a different picture. She often felt angry, upset, tired; but the smile on her face never melted. She accepted defeat with wit and rejection with a wink - because she (former Masked Kid, third runner-up in the Pokémon League, Pokédex Owner) did not know the meaning of giving up; of hanging shoulders.

Or so they thought.

The people around her knew her as Miss Confident, as the girl who could handle anything and anyone and never felt blue in the sense of being down. And she gladly played along. She showed the world her assured, merry, _invincible _side: flirting with any person who came along and showing off her countless virtues.

But on the inside she felt insecure.

___________________________________________________________________

_She wondered if she would be able to overcome the next difficulty on her path, or if she'd end up wounded; both in pride and in health. _

_She doubted her carefully polished skills (in battle, in love, in life) and was afraid they would burst one day, proving to have been nothing but soap bells after all._

_She noticed her many flaws, on the in - but especially on the outside; visible for everyone and magnified by their judging gazes. _

_She feared that people would dismiss her, reject her; call her the things she sometimes heard in her nightmares.  
______________________________________________________________________

The thing she dreaded most, though (more than defeat in life; wounded pride; faded beauty) was a disappointed look from the man most dear to her. Green often looked at her with annoyance, exasperation, impatience; it meant nothing. It was just as part of him as the winks and smiles were part of her, she knew. But a look of undisguised disappointment (a sign he liked her less, didn't want her anymore) - it could turn her heart into ice.

So she was always on the look-out for bad omens, predicting heartbreak and salty tears. She expected them to come any moment, because didn't good things always come to an end?

____________________________________________________________________

(_The rustle of wings, slits in masks, all-penetrating cold._)  
______________________________________________________________________  
_

Green, though, did not leave. And nor did he shatter her heart. He stayed with her, _loved _her; and very gradually Blue began to believe that perhaps this time there _would _be a happy end. She relaxed in his presence and gave herself over to him, bit by bit; till at last he had seen all of her.

And still didn't leave.

So when he told her one night that she was beautiful - stroking her hair in a rare, treasured moment of affection - she believed him. She also believed him when he said he loved her. (_It was dark, but she could see his face - handsome and still, almost like a marble statute_.) Her heart rose and her insides seemed to explode but not because of heartbreak, tears, or fear. Because of happiness.

She reached out for him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a want she had never felt before. And as Green responded without hesitation, all the doubts that were still there dissolved in the warm night. This time, she knew, there _would _be a happy ending. And there wasn't even the need to act; because the smile that was painted on her face was made of waterproof ink. It stayed there even with all the past and future tears; the heavy showers of rain; the down-pours. All her earlier insecurities were reduced to nothing more than small snowflakes, once blurring her vision in a heavy storm - but all threat and cold now melting away in the warmth of their embrace.


	9. Chapter 9: Beauty and Love II

Beauty and Love II

Green had always thought Blue was beautiful. She was just that kind of girl. He had realised it the moment he first met her despite the annoyance and irritation about her behaviour (looks and nice personality don't go together, he observed from the sidelines, taking in her every action.)

Still, as time progressed and he gradually fell in love with her - twist of fate - he could see the two seemingly contradicting features melt together - till at last, he could say she was a pretty _and _a nice girl. And mean it, too.

Because, yes: he thought she was beautiful when she came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel; when she was dressed up for the night, all smiles and laughter; when she was wearing nothing, lights out but eyes aglow; when she shouted things in battle, all concentration and focus; when her face was clean of make-up and her hair uncombed, soundly sleeping with the sun's early rays warming the room.

Of course, he didn't say it out loud. Not too often, at least. Her ego was high enough already (though there _were _moments of insecurity, times where she proved to have been built of fine porcelain instead of unbreakable steel) - and besides, he wasn't the kind of person to hand out compliments to just any person who walked by.

Not that she was just any person, of course.

The words only escaped his lips when they couldn't be held back anymore - mostly (if not always) when they lay together in the dark, away from everyone's gazes. Perhaps it was the absent of light that made him so open, perhaps the intimacy of the moment. Fact was that he meant it like he had never meant something before; like he had never _loved _someone before.

As her hands pulled him towards her and their lips met, the words dissolved but did not disappear; because they took every syllable with them wherever they went. The tones had attached themselves to them as a guardian angel of a sort; not only guiding them through rough times, but also melting their harts.

Steel defences are sensitive to only one thing, after all. Heat.


	10. Chapter 10: Thorns

**A/N: **

**Everyone can see in this story what they like to see - but I imagine it to be a recurring dream that mirrors the feelings Green has; but which he suppresses. Things you suppress, though, will return eventually, and mostly in dreams. I musn't say too much now, of course - it'd be better to do that at the end - but the ending mirrors his view on those feelings. He can't admit to it, because he's ashamed or confused (or because he thinks he's above it), but in the end it does more harm than he had foreseen. And it keeps vexing him at night, yup.**

**I'm really happy with this one - I hope you are too, and that you get what I'm trying to say. Comments are always nice!  
**

Thorns 

She is stretched out on the sofa like a cat. Her legs long and exposed; her body comfortable in every position she maintains. Muscles supple and skin flawless. Even though the room is stuffed with things - distracting and misleading other fools - all his attention goes out to her.

Mesmerizing. Addictive. Desirable.

_Like a drug bringing you to great heights but destroying you nonetheless. _

He walks slowly towards her, and knows that he wouldn't have been able to stop even if he wanted to. (Sometimes, brain and body are two different matters.) Now he is closer, he can see her finely polished features; calling his attention and stirring unwanted emotions inside of him.

_(Eyes glint. Lips curve. Lashes flutter.) _

Her skin is fair and flawless, but her cheeks wear the colour of roses; so subtle and becoming that he almost fails noticing it. (He can't help but wonder if she also tastes and smells like rose petals - and then thinks with a pang that perhaps she _is _the flower: beautiful and perfect, but oh so dangerous.)

_Thorns aplenty._

Still, he advances. He wants to touch her - be with her - experience whatever it is that is awaiting him. And he knows he shouldn't move in her direction; but her eyes are like lamps showing him the way in an otherwise dark vacuum.

(What was that story about little lights calling people to the depths of the bog?)

_Fantasy and reality are two different matters he reminds himself. Desperate, almost._

He can see the moist on her petal-shaped lips, the light flush on her cheeks. A small whiff of flowery aroma comes his way; the promise of silky hair and soft skin makes his imagination run wild and his senses tantalize.

Balancing on the threshold, dangling in-between want and alarm; between dreams and reality. She rises and stretches an arm in his direction. His eyes urge him to take it, so that pictures will become reality; so that want will find a way out.

_Perfection always end, _his brain tells him. _And everything has consequences. _

His breathing is deep and shallow, his hands tremble with the suppressed yearning to reach out. He lifts his gaze to her eyes - they are soft and gleam with something he realises too late is plea. Seconds seem to linger for eternity and the pressure of time is suffocating him -

_(Weight of the world on his shoulders.)_

Thoughts swirl through his head - fears and longing and objections and… - all mixed into an overflowing crucible, threatening to burst apart. It's too much; and he's scared. The dawning prospect of unknown things to come makes him feel smaller than the petals that currently lie around the object of recurring dreams - and he knows he should not fear; he knows.

But he does. And he steps back.

One single movement of his feet, and the girl before him dissolves into a blur of colours and shapes - Gone forever. (He knows, and mourns).

And as if to silence him, a stream of vermillion paint pours itself out over the world. All colours and sounds drown - and the air becomes heavy with the smell of roses; flower petals falling down from the skies; slowly covering and burying him till all he can do is scream.

And as the last of his vision disappears, overflowing with gushing red and knife-sharp petals with thorns (petals don't _have _thorns, he tries to point out, desperately - but his words get lost in the swirl of movement and colour), a stray thought crosses his mind like an anchor in full storm -

_Next time, I will give in; next time, I will go to her. And kiss her, and hold her, and…_

(But he knows that the only thing he'll meet is suffocation and disappointment - because that's how it always goes. A dissolving dream image, only leaving him cursing his cowardice and wanting more.)


	11. Chapter 11: Addiction

Addiction

She knew that drugs were dangerous and best to avoid.

Still, she kept calling on _her _drug - it was no use trying to prevent it, as she was already beyond help.

She craved for it night and day, saw it dancing in her eyeballs and appearing in her dreams. _(Instead of fulfilling her, she awakened thirsty and worn-out.)_

When momentarily blocking it out of her thoughts, it would later only return in tenfold - consuming and engulfing her till she saw no way out if it.

Going out to get a glimpse of her obsession - fine hands, attentive eyes - was only so remedial; curing her want for a moment, but seeing to it that the symptoms would return the moment he was out of sight again.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_A memory is more haunting than tricks of the imagination, because the victim knows exactly what it does and doesn't hold - and nothing can change that.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

All her actions stimulated, deepened, _worsened _her addiction; to the point where she couldn't imagine a world without constant longing and dizzying flutters in the stomach. - Till, one day, she found a solution. A very pleasant one, too.

As Green kissed her (finally, _finally _giving in to her silent plea) the thirst and sleep-deprivation disappeared. Of course, it was replaced by a hammering heart and a much deeper want than before.

The butterflies didn't take their leave either.

But she knew that her drug had changed from bad to good in seconds - because instead of destruction it gave her love and happiness. And all the possible dangers had blanked out at the sight of his eyes, which spoke of a future

(with soft caresses; warm breaths; comfortable silences)

and the two of them.

So even though they knew that drugs were best to avoid and very dangerous, they kept on calling on _their _drug. Because they realised that it was no use trying to prevent it - both were already far beyond help.


	12. Chapter 12: Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden Fruit

She was his everything, even if he didn't always show. He could be stoic and emotionless and cold - but not when it came to her. As she kissed him (touched him; smiled; so much as _looked _at him), his heart would be set ablaze and his body was full of tingles and odd fluttering that dangerously came close to butterflies.

_Close. _

He'd never expected to feel something like this; he had thought it to be something for fools, for people ruled by their emotions and instincts (primitive and weak.) So always when he heard people exclaim that they were in _love, _he couldn't help but roll his eyes and regard the person in question with badly concealed contempt.

It was only a question of failed self-constraint, after all. And he knew he was right.

____________________________________________________________________

_  
(Like grass being weak against fire, and fire against water; knowledge behind contradiction, knowledge ingrained into one's mind.) _

___________________________________________________________________

- But then Blue entered his life; and with an unnerving ease - winks, laughs, smiles - she nestled in his brain, took over his dreams, and made him break with all the rules and morals he had in life. (Which were _part _of him, which he _needed._)

_But not so much as he needed her._

And as he began doubting himself, and started wondering if he were no better than all the fools around him

(_that couldn't be; not him, not now…)_

Blue came closer than ever and gave him the silent choice - morals or feelings. Mind or body. Rationalism or want.

_____________________________________________________________________

_  
All good had vanished from the world when Eve had taken the apple. Beauty in disguise, urging him to do the unwise. (Gleaming and red.)_

_-_

_Was it the snake or the forbidden fruit that spoke to him when it promised love, glinting in bright azure eyes?_

_-_

_Both, perhaps. Sin and sinner; tempter and temptation; serpent and apple. _

_______________________________________________________________________

In the end he made his choice, mostly because he saw no other solution - denying his feelings was like being in a burning building: all exits disappearing in front of his eyes, air being pressed from his longs and toxic smoke

(_blown his direction in heart-shaped puffs - oh, the irony of love_)

affecting his mind; till the only way out was right in front of him, bright and free of danger (but still so very scary.)

When he threatened to lose all his senses, though, he walked through the door nonetheless - discovering to find it so much less eerie than he had first thought, that he was surprised by his own miscalculations.

(And cowardice, perhaps.)

-

Now that he was on the other side, he could see things in perspective; appreciate life in a different way. He would even say that he was _happier _than before - albeit very scarcely, and only in the moments when he was at his weakest.

______________________________________________________________________

_How many men had fallen off their throne because of the promise of soft skin and silky hair?  
Showed their weaknesses for a pair of gleaming eyes?  
And succumbed to the mortal because of earthly desires?  
__  
They said nothing was more threatening than the swish of steel, but Green knew the opposite to be true. __  
It was only a woman's love that had the power to defeat.  
_______________________________________________________________________

Still, he kept saying to himself that love hadn't changed him _that _much.

So his face was still mostly a mask of apathy or coldness, aloof and indifferent; and one could only guess about the inside. The only difference now was that he didn't always manage in keeping the gleam out of his eyes - shining more passionately than all the years before.

And Blue knew, probably. She knew and she smiled.

-

_(And then kissed him again.)_


	13. Chapter 13: Train

**A/N:**

**I write, or at least start, most of my stories on the train; and I think it's obvious to see in this piece. Oh, I just absolutely love to travel by train; it has something romantic to cross the country and see the landscape change. Sometimes I'm almost sad to get off once I've reached my destination. **

**About this piece: it focuses on Blue rather than on Oldrivalshipping. But, like I said in my first post: not _everything _will necessarily have to be Guriburu. Even though till now it has all been the case. (Because writing Oldrival is just what I do best, haha.)**

Train

The landscape flashed by as the train cleaved the country, leaving fields of grass and corn behind. (Small rectangular shapes from above, but blunted colours from the side.)

Her life was like that, too.

Years passed and went, and from a little girl she became a woman; her memories as the only witnesses of the many things left unsaid.

_(Buried, because sometimes it is better to forget and move on, instead of constantly reminiscing one's actions and mistakes - mulling it over until the old memory is forgotten and gone, replaced by a magnified version.)_

The train never stopped except to refill its supplies, and just like that Blue never looked back; she had to keep moving, afraid that otherwise she wouldn't be able to start up again. (Petrified by the thoughts of her demons.)

She couldn't let the past catch up with her.

Always on the run, with the devil ice-cold on her heels. The train blew a spiral of smoke in the air while splitting the lands it passed, and Blue's way of letting off steam was just the same; though _her_ marks consisted of hearts and kisses.

_(A trail of flirty pink instead of dull grey - getting blown away by the sweeping wind, scattered across the places left behind.)_

But sometimes, it was hard to keep running. And to keep smiling.

Then her mask - frail as porcelain, flexible as wax - would falter and cracks appeared in her confident demeanour. She was trained enough not to let people show, but -

_It's over once the doubts have hit you. _

Like a disease

(rust on steel, water on fire)

it will affect you, bit by bit and second after second; not knowing till it is too late. Then the train has come to a halt - all motions ceased in a deadly display of silence. A stop in no man's land between grey fields of insecurity and strings of swirling mist. Unwanted and unsure.

_____________________________________________________________________

_Gnawing doubts climb aboard as uninvited passengers, dodging fare but getting away with it nonetheless; because who are you to stop those feelings from running?_

_____________________________________________________________________

All there is left to do, really, is lifting the corners of your mouth and igniting an artificial sparkling in your irises.

(Merely illusions, but fooling everyone around you.)

Chestnut hair as well as black steel brilliantly polished; both azure eyes and yellow head-lamps fiercely aglow. Once everything is spotless, the engine will start again - because all that matters is presentation.

(The world is built on fake smiles and false promises; and one little lie of wellbeing can save you from crashing down. So like a pro, Blue danced her way through life, avoiding obstacles and blowing objections away with a kiss. And just like that, she kept moving; running, always running, never looking back.)


	14. Chapter 14: Image of Perfection II

**A/N:**

**_Lazy Lazuli _remarked in a review that I should apply the _Image of Perfection _concept also on Blue (for those who have missed out: in chapter three, I wrote an ode of a kind to Green, from Blue's perspective.) Well, here you go! An ode to Blue from _Green's _perspective. Just like's Blue's a tad bit dark - but that's just how I write ;)**

**On another note: I'd appreciate it very much if the people who favourited this story would also care to leave a review. (I'd love to also get reviews from the people who just read, of course, but I don't know who you are, haha.). The balance between readers and reviewers is pretty skewed in this story (even more than in my other stories), so I can't help but wonder if the pieces aren't that good - or if it's just not something that appeals to the average reading audience here. Hm. Well, enjoy this piece at least!  
**  
Image of Perfection II

He wasn't a fan of the word perfection, and thus never used it.

Still, Blue came close to the very essence of the expression.

Her hair was silky and sparkling, as if the sun had personally brushed every strand; and every time he walked by, a whiff of roses came his way.  
Her eyes were bright and shining, painted in the deepest azure imaginable; and every time he looked her way, he felt himself getting lost in those pools of blue.  
Her skin was soft and fair, wrapped around a body that kept returning in his dreams and thoughts; and every time his eyes unconsciously wandered over her legs – arms, neck, shoulder – he wondered how it could be that there wasn't a single flaw to be spotted.  
Her voice was melodious and honey-like, carrying words and phrases his way on a feather-light breeze; and every time her tones reached his ears, something inside of him stirred – not matter what the contents were.

He had always believed that perfection was fiction (made up by fools and dreamers, believing in a better world), and thus never searched for it.

____________________________________________________________________

_We live in a flawed world, now and forever: one where the beautiful azure of the seas takes you to its depths; the sun's bright rays scorch you till you can no longer see; and where love - seemingly good, seemingly all that you could desire - turns you into a blind fool: melting all your defences, then stabbing you for your own foolishness._

Perfection is always two-sided; but once you've noticed that, it is already too late.

____________________________________________________________________

He was more aware of it than anyone else, because he loved Blue despite the obvious shortcomings and bad habits. (Noisiness; dishonesty; prodigality)

_Flawless looks but flawed personality. _

Still, it was that very fact that prevented him from falling in the depths of the sea; looking into the scorching heat of the sun; losing himself to a love that was merely an illusion.

Realization is everything, after all.

He knew that Blue was real despite the sparkling hair and taintless body, the honey voice and shining eyes. She wasn't a mythical creation come to this world to drive him insane; she was just a girl with looks like heaven and laughs like an angel.

* * *

(Perfect, yes.

_But also his.)_


	15. Chapter 15: Fall

**A/N:**

**Updates become fewer and fewer... Let's blame it on the institution called college. Anyway - this piece is Green-centered. I don't think any explanation concerning the topic is necessary, since the piece speaks for itself (and otherwise, just ask). **

**If you guessed that I wrote this back in the autumn, you are right. Snow-filled pieces would fit the season better now, haha; but you'll have to bear with me ;)  
On a side-note: I like the title of this one. It can either talk about the season or the actual fall (in symbolic sense), something which can be both applied to this piece. Perhaps it _does _talk about both. **

Fall

He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, watching leaves fall on the other side of the glass. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, falsely giving the impression of warm summer days; the sun, though, shone only watery through the half-bare branches - subtle indicator that a whole different type of weather was going on. Cool, preserved; neither hot nor cold.

Just his favourite time of year.

But today, he barely saw the autumnal scenery; his eyes watched through the miniscule brushes of yellow, red and orange, the colours degrading to a mere background for his thoughts.

So long ago, and still - he was never able to quite forget about it. Every time his birthday drew nearer, memories filled his head again; like cob web it spun itself around his cells, preventing him from shaking it off.

* * *

  
_(Cob web is sticky for a reason; it was never designed to let its prey run wild again.)  
_

* * *

It was no use rethinking, re_playing _those moments in his head - gone was gone.

But still.

_Still._

What if it had been different? What if they'd never stepped into that car? What if - if…

Hands clenched as tears threatened to make their appearance - breaking the vow made all those years ago.

(Crying was to succumb to the evils in the world; clinging to a hated past instead of looking ahead and fighting back.  
He couldn't give his demons that satisfaction.  
He _wouldn't _give them that satisfaction.)

So he broke his eyes away from the scarlet trees with difficulty - picture of pain - and turned around. As his feet removed themselves from the window, going faster and faster, his thoughts shattered into little pieces; and with every step he took, they dissolved further until only a sweeping nothingness remained.

_Silence._

* * *

  
Like a leaf falling from the sky, the past will find you again; twirling and turning, carried on the endless currents of time.

Running away is hard -

_Standing still that much harder. _


	16. Chapter 16: Reflections

**A/N: Just two things I needed to get out of my system, really. You can make of it whatever you want. Apologies for the late updates... if someone out there cares, at least.  
**

**

* * *

**

Reflections

_In the mirror, she saw an attractive body with an empty soul._

_In his eyes, she saw beauty on all sides._

__________________

Blue said she loved mirrors because they showed her the result of hours of perfecting: combing hair; glossing lips; captioning eyes. She looked at her reflection to practice her act; polish her demeanour; work out every little detail; until perfection was reached.

She couldn't go without, because - she'd fail.

(Become invisible, replaceable; just another face in a crowd of thousands. A haunting fear of going unnoticed and seen as dispensable, floating among people whose eyes don't flutter your side when you brush by.)

Yes, Blue said she loved mirrors, and she did - she really did. The ones she loved most, though, weren't hung on the wall; they were placed in a face she could kiss and reach out for, and most of all, look at forever.

___________________

_In the mirror, she saw a reflection of her own shortcomings. _

_In his eyes, she saw a reflection of his love._


	17. Chapter 17: Love

Love

"_Do you love me?"_

"_Always."_

She stared in his eyes, shining green and brilliant in the dark. His breath tickled her face as he let out a sigh that she couldn't wholly identify (half contentment; half acceptance). But it was warm and consoling all the same, and blind happiness flooded her body.

* * *

(Love. Most fleeting and precious thing, gone by tomorrow and won by tonight; carried on by the capricious winds of one's heart.)

* * *

"_Do you want me?"_

"_I do."_

She clamped on to him - desperate - and nuzzled against his chest. His scent, his warmth; it filled her entire being, her pores and her all her senses, until she was almost dizzy. She needed him - she _wanted _him.

* * *

(Desire. Able to turn from an inferno into a feeble flame, only kept alive by vague memories; haunting one's mind and consuming one's body.)

* * *

"_Green?"_

A kiss. A whisper. A smile.

"…_I love you, too."_


	18. Chapter 18: Notes

**A/N:**

**What, an update after two days already? Yes, I'm a bit in a writing rush. Or a _lot, _more accurately.**

**No notes passing in this one, by the way, but we do have musical notes. And a bit of anti-Oldrival, perhaps. Or not. Depends how you look at it :)**

**

* * *

**

Notes

Blue didn't think much about her past, and she didn't think much about Green. Life had taught her to live in the moment and cling to the future.

She couldn't, though, when she heard that song. The tunes were soft and nonchalant, ordinary to anyone but her; and as all the people around her kept rushing, kept moving in never-ending routes, she stood completely still.

They'd kissed to this song.  
They'd made love to this song.  
They'd broken up to this song.

She realised with a flick of painful nostalgia that it had been a hit in that year, in the year that they'd been a couple. The song had been like an ever-present background-tune, slowly seeping into your unconsciousness and never leaving -- no matter how deeply buried.

She wondered how he was.  
She wondered if he was seeing someone.  
She wondered what the right wish to that question was.

The song ended, and Blue slowly got into motion again. It was something from the past; a past full of colour and joy, but a past nonetheless. As her feet lightly carried her home, blue skirt and chestnut hair flowing in the summer air, his face melted from her mind like ice-cream in the sun.

She kissed her husband on the cheek as she returned home. The radio stayed off all evening.


End file.
